


Inevitable

by Ritual_Union



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drarry, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Suicidal Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-26 09:48:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12056421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ritual_Union/pseuds/Ritual_Union
Summary: Harry blinks, his eyes widening at the implication. Draco smile is still on his face, but it fades the longer Harry stares. Suddenly Draco shifts on his feet, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallows, and Harry realizes that his lack of response has made Draco unsure. Harry stows away his wand, his hands slightly shaky, and steps forward. He waits carefully to see whether Draco is going to make a joke of this as well, but Draco seems glued to the spot, his eyes traveling across Harry’s face before stopping at his lips.





	Inevitable

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Tumblr Prompt: Hardcore angsty Harry looking for a sign on the Astronomy tower, Draco in the shadows or flying, and a huge gust of winds sends Harry flying over the edge, but is saved by Draco. Friends to Lovers.
> 
> Warning for Suicidal!Harry, though it's not explicit.

Harry Potter stands at the edge of the Astronomy tower, looking over at the scene that greets him. He’s leaning on the other side of the railing, his hands the only thing keeping him from the fall below. It’s rather serene, the view. The rocky hills surrounding Hogwarts are growing darker in the twilight, the sky above slowly revealing its vast number of stars. Below it, the lake is still, its waters calm and twinkling with the sun’s remaining light. Harry can only wonder at how calm the world around him seems to be. Quiet. As though everything is fine. As though the world isn’t falling apart.

And maybe, Harry muses as he leans farther away from the railing, maybe it isn’t. Hogwarts had been rebuilt--Harry had seen to that. Every stone had been repaired, the walls of the castle restored, every painting and statue returned to its former glory. The grounds had slowly but surely healed itself from the battle. Yet Harry, who had worked tirelessly to put the broken pieces of his home back together, feels as though he might have missed something in the process. That maybe he missed repairing something _vital_. But, for the life of him, Harry doesn’t know what it is.

He recounts, in his waking moments as often as he does in his nightmares, the last seconds before the familiar flash of green blinds him and then there’s nothing, how calm he had felt. He had accepted it with all his heart. He’d never before been so sure about anything in his life. But after seeing his parents, after seeing Sirius and Remus, he had known that that had been where his whole life had been leading up to. To these last moments of his life with the people he longed for the most.

He closes his eyes then and shivers, the cold, biting wind whipping through his hair and clothes, freezing his hands which still held tightly onto the rail behind him. Harry can almost picture them in front of him again. He imagines how warm their hands might feel, how comforting it would be to be in their arms. He lets out a shaky exhale and opens his eyes. The sky is growing darker, the ground-level almost not visible in the late evening.  It is then that he spots it. A flash of bright blonde _something_ at the edge of a protruding tower, before it seems to disappear behind it. He narrows his eyes to get a better view, but there is nothing there. Harry frowns. He must be imagining things.

The wind seems to get colder, harsher the longer he stands there on the edge of the Astronomy tower. He doesn’t always think about his parents, or Sirius and Remus. Sometimes it’s Fred, or Cedric, or Dumbledore.  It’s always someone he couldn’t save.

Just then, a powerful gust of wind suddenly tears through him and Harry’s stomach drops. He realizes, rather belatedly, that his hands have slipped from their hold on the railing. He takes another fraction of a second to realize what’s about to happen and then he’s falling, the breath in his lungs freezing at the sudden drop. Oddly enough, the feeling is comforting. If he thinks hard enough, he can just imagine that he’s riding on his broom, racing toward the ground as though he’s just spotted the shiny, golden snitch.

But he’s not on his broom, and he’s not playing Quidditch, and Harry can’t help the shout of panic that leaves him. The ground is coming up rapidly--too rapidly.  What has he done? When he sees a flash of blonde again, he thinks he’s gone mad. This is not how things are suppose to end. What will Ron and Hermione think? How can he just leave them like this? He shuts his eyes tightly, seeing the ground only mere moments away.

“Potter!”

Harry gasps, his eyes flying open, his hands reaching. Someone grabs hold of him by the waist. He sees the tail end of what looks to be a Nimbus, platinum blonde hair also coming into view before he’s pulled against a warm body and they flip in the air, upside down on the broom, and Harry can tell there is no time to pull up. They crash hard onto the ground, Harry’s fall cushioned by the body that’s under him, the person’s arm wrapped securely around Harry before it slips away. Harry’s ears are humming, his limbs shaky, his heart beating hard and fast that he can feel his pulse at his temple. He pulls away slowly. Draco Malfoy groans before opening his eyes and looks straight at Harry. His expression is unreadable. Then his face contorts into rage.

“Potter, what the _fuck_?! Did you really think you can just go and off yourself like nothing? Like the whole world won’t be in an outrage that their Golden Boy has decided to fling himself off the bloody tower?”

“I wasn’t trying--” Harry starts.

Malfoy’s voice grows steadily louder, his eyes flashing dangerously as he jabs a finger in Harry’s chest. “How dare you?! After all that’s happened! YOU--You think you’re so _fucking_  special. And here is another chance for the world to have your attention. That’s what it’s always been hasn’t it?!” Malfoy is breathing harshly, blond strands of hair sticking to the sides of his face.

“Malfoy, you’re hurt.” Harry goes to grab Draco’s arm where the sleeve was torn. His skin from his elbow to his wrist is badly scratched and small trails of blood are running down his hand and to the ground.

“Don’t touch me!” Malfoy snaps, pulling his arm away from Harry and wincing.

Harry waits for Malfoy to continue his yelling, but the blonde only stares at him, and Harry swears he’s never seen such an expression on his face before, of _hurt_ , and something in Harry’s chest stirs because he knows he’s the one who’s caused it. But then a cold mask replaces it and Malfoy turns away without another word.

x

Harry spends the next few weeks in a sort of daze. At first he’d been worried that Malfoy would tell the whole school about the incident, or at least to Pansy, who would then proceed to tell the whole school about the incident. But so far, Malfoy has done nothing. Nothing except stare at Harry during times when he thinks Harry isn’t looking. Harry can feel that silver gaze on him, at first sharp and seething, during classes and as he walks through the halls. But slowly, the weeks go by and that same silver gaze starts to feel different. Multiple times Harry has met that stare, looked fixedly back at Malfoy until he turns away, a light color staining that pale face and Harry is alarmed to think he wants to see more of that.

One time in particular, during an hours long 8th-year game of Find the Snitch, Harry returns safely to the ground, hopping off his broom just a few steps away from Malfoy. Harry can’t help but stare at him; Malfoy is wearing a simple shirt, but the fabric sticks to his lean frame like a second skin. Harry’s suddenly finding it hard to swallow and when Malfoy turns to look him up and down slowly, Harry’s body practically hums with the intensity of those light grey eyes. When Malfoy turns to head over in the direction of the showers, Harry excuses himself from Ron, Dean, and Seamus, and hurries to catch up.

“Malfoy! Malfoy, wait up!”

Malfoy stops, his broom thrown over his shoulder casually, and he honors Harry with a bored expression. He doesn’t say anything and Harry suddenly feels his face heating.

“I, erm, I was wondering whether you had a partner for the potion’s research thing due in a few months?”

Malfoy raises an eyebrow and considers this. “I do not.”

“Oh! Oh, well, that’s great. I mean, not great, but...great for me...what I mean to say is…”

“Fuck’s sake, Potter, get on with it.”

“Do you want to be my partner?”

x

That December, the final day before everyone is off for the holiday break, finds the pair of them at the front of the class, presenting their potion’s research to their peers. Harry is impressed to say that their findings are a lot more thorough than he could have ever imagined, and he even might go as far as to say that it rivals the research presented by Hermione and Neville. He and Draco leave the class feeling very light on their feet (Harry more obvious than his blond partner) and head over to what has become a familiar path to their favorite study spot--an alcove at the top of the Astronomy tower. The hallways are festive, decorated in celebration of the holidays, with flurries of snow falling lightly in some areas of the castle. Harry and Draco laugh at one unfortunate pair of 5th year students who have gotten trapped in the doorway of a classroom, an enchanted mistletoe hanging right above them.

“Will you be leaving home for hols?” Harry asks nonchalantly as they climb the steps to the Astronomy tower, secretly wondering whether Draco has decided to stay at Hogwarts, which would mean that Harry should make up an excuse to stay as well. Maybe he can say that he wants to get more potion’s research done? No, Ron won’t buy that for a second. Maybe he can say that he needs some space? No, Mrs. Weasley would storm into the castle, taking that as a hint that he needs more smothering.

“Yes, actually. I’ll be visiting my mother in Paris.”

“Oh,” Harry says, heart sinking a fraction. “That’s good. Yeah, I’ll be leaving, too. Spending time with the Weasley’s. We’re planning on having Hermione’s parents over for Christmas. That should be interesting.” They climb the steps silently for a bit. “You know, this was fun. I didn’t know you knew so much about how there’s really only a fraction of a difference between medicine and poison. You’re more intelligent than I ever gave you credit for.”

“No surprise there,” Draco says, rolling his eyes good-naturedly.

Harry grins and his heart almost stops at the smile that lights Draco’s face. It is a genuine smile, one that Harry has been privy to only a handful of times. And each time they leave Harry breathless, longing for something that is quite out of his reach. Harry swallows past the lump in his throat and follows him to the top step and through the archway until Draco’s hand suddenly shoots out.

“Potter, don’t--!”

“What--?” But it’s too late. Harry feels it. The pull of magic where they stand. He tries to step out of it and finds that he can’t move out of its range. When he looks up, a lone mistletoe wrapped in red ribbon curls innocently from the top of the archway. He feels his face grow hot. Draco is staring up at the mistletoe, his mouth hanging slightly open. “I suppose it’s safe to assume you weren’t the one to put that up there?” Harry tries to joke, but Draco only looks at him with wide eyes, his face growing pale.

“N-no, of course not. Don’t be ridiculous,” Draco says, clearing his throat and looking anywhere but at Harry. “Was it you?”

“No!”

They stand there for a minute, unable to move out of the archway, until Harry breaks the silence. “What do you suppose we should do?”

“Well, considering the circumstances in which we find ourselves, I’d say there is only one thing we _can_ do.”

Harry’s heart beat quickens, his eyes dropping to Draco’s mouth, to his lips which were pink and wet, and back up again. Draco notices this movement, and furrows his brows in confusion. After some hesitation, in which Harry’s holding his breath for Draco’s next words, Draco reaches a hand into his pocket and takes out his wand.

“We have to destroy the Astronomy Tower.”

Harry almost sags, cursing himself silently and letting out the breath he had been holding. “Yes, of course. Of course, that’s...that’s obvious. Tear down the Astronomy Tower.” He takes out his own wand.

Malfoy’s breath of laughter stops Harry in his tracks. Malfoy’s hand covers his mouth, his shoulders shaking before his laugh fills the room. His eyes are crinkled in amusement and he shakes his head at Harry.

“What?” Harry can’t help the small breath of laughter that leaves him, too, Malfoy’s mirth contagious. “What in the world is so funny to you?”

“Potter,” Malfoy says, gathering himself, and shaking his head again, “we are _not_ going to destroy the fucking tower. Are you mad?” Draco’s voice is laced in amusement. “It’s a bloody kiss. We won’t die from it…”

Harry blinks, his eyes widening at the implication. Draco smile is still on his face, but it fades the longer Harry stares. Suddenly Draco shifts on his feet, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallows, and Harry realizes that his lack of response has made Draco unsure. Harry stows away his wand, his hands slightly shaky, and steps forward. He waits carefully to see whether Draco is going to make a joke of this as well, but Draco seems glued to the spot, his eyes traveling across Harry’s face before stopping at his lips.

“Just get on with it…” Draco whispers.

Harry leans forward, closing the last few inches between them. The first meet of lips is tentative and warm. It’s just a quick press of lips, yet the touch sends shivers down Harry’s spine, his stomach doing  odd flips, and his hands are clenched against the urge to deepen the kiss. It ends much too soon. Harry pulls away and he feels the enchantment of the mistletoe fade, yet he doesn’t move further. Draco doesn’t move either, but continues to stand there facing Harry,  his cheeks an endearing shade of pink.

Harry doesn’t know who moves first, but the next second Draco wraps his arms around Harry’s neck and Harry pulls Draco closer with his hands at his waist, their mouths meeting again in a hot, slick embrace. Harry moves them to the wall, pressing Draco against it as their tongues slide together. Draco’s hand runs through Harry’s hair, pulling it almost painfully and Harry groans. He responds by grinding his hips against Draco and Draco has to pull away to gasp, exposing his neck.

Some time later, Draco manages to pull himself away with a warm hand on Harry’s chest. He has to calm his breathing before he manages to say,

“I’ll see you after the holidays, Potter.”

“See you.”

x

Their first time together is in Harry’s private room. It’s late spring now, the night outside is cool, and a light breeze comes in gently through the open window. The only light in the room is from a sole burning candle, and it casts tempting shadows across the length of Draco’s back. He’s laying on his stomach, shirtless, a book lying unopened in front of him. He stares at Harry contemplatively, his head resting on his arm.

“What is it?” Harry asks from his seat on the armchair. He places the book he’d been holding on the bedside table--he hadn’t been taking in a word of it anyway.

“You surprise me, is all.”

“I do?”

Draco nods, but doesn’t say anything further.

“Care to elaborate?”

Draco smiles almost shyly before turning on his back, his arms crossed behind his head. Harry’s rakes his eyes over Draco’s chest, to the toned abdomen that flexes with his every move, and down to the soft blond curls that disappear underneath Draco’s skin-tight jeans.  “Harry. I’ve been coming to your room for weeks now. I’ve stayed the night a few times. I’m here right now lying half naked on your bed,” he pauses here, seeming to wonder whether to continue. “But you haven’t made a single move to take things any further between us. Why is that?”

Harry’s heart almost stops. Take things further between them? Is that what this is about? Draco sneaking into his room every night, presumably to study, fainting falling asleep on his bed so he wouldn’t have to go back to his own quarters? Harry doesn’t mind, of course. Far from it. He chews the inside of his lip, willing his body to behave itself as his lower regions have taken particular interest in where the conversation is heading. He clears his throat.

“I assure you, it’s not from lack of interest.”

“What do I have to do, then?” Draco asks softly, one hand sliding down his chest. “To take you over the edge?”

Harry can hardly believe his ears. Draco is here offering himself, why is Harry not jumping on this opportunity? Of course Harry has been wanting this. Every single time they kiss, Draco’s lips driving him mad with how much more Harry wants. Harry looks away, towards the open window where he can just make out a full moon in the distance.

“Do you remember...the beginning of the school year?” Harry asks quietly. Draco’s smile fades quickly and he sits up. “That day...that day on the Astronomy Tower?” Draco nods, reaching a hand up to tuck a stray strand of blond hair behind his ear. Harry has to close his eyes, clearing his throat against the hard lump that has formed there. “You...you saved me that day, Draco.”

Harry hears Draco’s sharp intake of breath but he keeps his eyes shut. He doesn’t want to see how Draco will look at him. They’d never talked about that fateful day on the Astronomy tower. Draco hadn’t brought it up to anybody, and Harry had preferred to pretend as though that day hadn’t happened. But he realizes now that he has to say it, to explain what happened, so Draco can decide whether he wanted to stay. When he opens his eyes Draco is staring at Harry, those intense silver eyes piercing him so thoroughly that Harry wonders whether he’s trying to read his mind. Harry has to look away. He picks at the frayed edges of the armchair.

“I wasn’t in a good place. There was so much...so many dark thoughts running through my head constantly...I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t sleep,” Harry says, shaking his head. “I didn’t know what else I could do, Draco. And...and then you were there. You just happened to be there on _that_ day for some inexplicable--”

“I knew,” Draco whispers.

Harry’s head shoots up.

“What?”

Draco doesn’t meet his eyes. He bites his lip hard and Harry longs to run a finger across it, to smooth the indents left behind.

“I had taken to flying around the grounds. One night you happened to be there in the Astronomy Tower, just sitting there, staring at nothing. The next day I wondered whether you’d be there again so I flew by...just out of curiosity. And there you were. I don’t know what made me want to come back. I suppose I just wanted to see what you were up to. But other times I would see you staring over the edge, coming closer to it every night and I began to wonder...”

Harry’s stomach lurches and he feels sick. Had he really been there all those times? What must Draco think of him? He leans forward, his head falling in his hands but Draco continues.

“That day. Harry, that entire day _I knew_ ...I could feel it somehow. You had this look in your eyes the whole day, during classes...I thought _why_ can’t anyone else see it? I had half a mind to walk up to you...But I knew if I stopped you then you would see right past me...I didn’t think...I should’ve…” He stops, his voice choked, and Harry’s heart breaks to hear it.

“I don’t know what I would’ve done,” Draco says more calmly. “If I hadn’t been there.”

Harry finally looks up, feeling the burn at the corners of his eyes. His hands shake as they clench in fists in his lap. “Draco, I don’t even know what to say,” he confesses, his heart in his throat. “You don’t understand how much that moment means to me. That you were there, when no one else ever even noticed I was gone. You...Draco, you mean the world to me.” Harry waits until Draco meets his eyes. “ _Thank you_.”

Draco exhales and he slides off the bed, coming over to Harry, who reaches his hands up and welcomes Draco onto his lap. They kiss, and this time it’s so much more, the intensity leaving Harry shaking. Draco’s hands are at either sides of his face, and he straddles Harry, his knees on either sides of him. Harry holds him tightly, wanting to bring him closer still. Draco’s tongue explores Harry’s mouth so thoroughly and he moans, a delicious shiver running across his body and to his groin. Unable to hold back any longer, Harry hooks a hand under Draco’s leg, the other wrapped firmly on the small of his back and he lifts him to take him back to the bed. He places Draco gently on top of the covers, lifting his shirt and throwing it on the floor before he moves on top of Draco. He kisses the corner of his mouth, the sides of his face, and when Draco turns his head to give Harry better access, Harry slides his tongue down to his neck, nipping the skin there and marveling at the sounds leaving Draco’s lips. They undress each other slowly, Harry working his way down Draco’s body before he slips the impossibly tight jeans down his legs and onto the floor to join his own trousers. They pause then, their breaths mingling hotly as they see each other completely naked for the first time. Harry has to admit that he’s more scared now than he has ever been before and his heart jumps in his chest at the adoring smile on Draco’s lips. He wants it to be good for Draco, he wants to take care of him, to make Draco fall apart in the best way possible.

When Harry enters him a while later, it is with the utmost care; Draco’s eyes have fluttered closed, his hands, his nails leaving hot trails on his shoulders as he grasps for purchase. Harry has to fight his urge to just _go_ , he knows Draco is still adjusting to him, but then Draco opens his eyes, and their faces are so close that Harry can see just how long his lashes are against his skin, his cheeks burning hot and pink with exertion.

“ _Harry_ …”

Harry finds it surprising how much his heart wants to burst at the way Draco says his name, as though that one word, his name, holds so much meaning. Harry begins to move, taking his cues from the sounds of bliss coming from Draco, and Harry wants to swallow each one of them whole. He kisses Draco, wanting him to taste himself on Harry’s tongue. Harry pulls away, burying his face in the crook of Draco’s neck, knowing he won’t last much longer. He knows the exact moments before Draco loses himself. His hands have traveled to the back of Harry’s neck and he pulls him back enough so that their eyes can meet. Draco’s breathing hard and fast, his eyebrows furrowed, and his lips parted before his eyes fall closed and his head tilts back. Harry reaches up quick, his hand on Draco’s face and kisses him, muffling the sound of pleasure that leaves him. And Harry follows right after, his body shaking with every pulse, and he can’t help the words that fall from his mouth, a truth he’s known for a long time, to settle at the edges of Draco’s lips.

“I love you. I love you.”

“Me too.”


End file.
